Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death:

by Matt Forbeck

  Espre felt as if her heart had stopped beating. "You know,” she said, staring at her father. "That’s why you wanted to find me now. You know.”

  Ledenstrae held up his hands to calm the girl. "When Majeeda first contacted me, I had no idea. She just told me that you were alive. You can’t imagine how that news thrilled me.”

  Espre just nodded. She didn’t know what to think any more.

  "Then how did you ..■•■?” She stared up at her father, who now seemed more of a stranger than ever.

  "The Undying Court became aware of the reemergence of the Mark of Death via its powerful seers,” Ledenstrae said. "My ancestors warned me of this. When Majeeda contacted them about you, they recognized you instantly.”

  "How did they know about my dragonmark?” she said. "Majeeda never saw it.”

  "True,” said Majeeda, "but it didn’t take the Undying Court long to connect the two occurrences. Only so many things happen in the Mournland that are strange enough to attract their attention.”

  "So,” Espre said to her father, "what do you plan to do with me?”

  Ledenstrae’s face became grave. "If you bear the Mark of Death, my fair child, I’m afraid there is no other choice. For the good of all of Aerenal, you will have to die.”

  "Do it,” Duro said to the changeling. "It's now or never.” "It’s not you who’s laying herself out as a target,” Te’oma said as she sat on the gunwale near the edge of the bridge, her legs dangling out over the open air below. She hefted Sallah’s sword in her hands.

  "For a heartless killer, you’re a bit of a whiner," the dwarf said, rolling his eyes.

  He stood next to her on the gunwale and tried to ignore their precarious position. Having lived most of his life underground, he hadn’t had too many dealings with the terrors of open heights. He tried to pretend the cliff was just one side of an open mineshaft, but it didn’t take the edge off his fears.

  "The sword won’t be heavy enough to pull you to the ground,” he said. As he spoke, he glanced around to make sure that the others had gotten into position. They all seemed ready. They just needed the changeling to start it all off. "It’s light as a feather, and you’re not even carrying the scabbard.”

  "Easy for you to—” Te’oma’s words turned to a scream in mid-sentence as the bottom of Duro’s hobnailed boot smashed into her backside and shoved her off the railing. She failed her arms as she fell.

  "Woman overboard!” Duro shouted at the dockworkers. Inside, he said a quick prayer to Olladra, the goddess of luck, that this would work. He had been betting that Te’oma would remember to unfurl her bloodwings before she hit bottom. He winced as he wondered if she might forget in her panic. "Help!”

  Chapter

  23

  Kandler and Burch strode into the room. Ledenstrae stood, but he did not offer a hand in friendship. Majeeda sat, her eyes burning with such anger that Kandler feared they might set her dry, crinkly skin on fire.

  "Get away from her,” Kandler said to Ledenstrae. The fangblade was in his hand.

  Burch held his crossbow pointed at the ground. Kandler knew he could put a bolt straight through Majeeda’s skull before she could draw another breath. Of course, she didn’t need to breathe.

  Ledenstrae offered Kandler and Burch a strained smile. "I understand what you feel you must do here, but you don’t understand how pointless your objections are.”

  "You sure know how to sweet talk your friends,” Burch said.

  Ledenstrae put up his hands in mock surrender. "Permit me to explain.,” he said. "I only have my daughter’s best interests at heart in this matter.”

  Kandler wondered if he could stab the man through the heart before Majeeda could stop him. As tempting as the idea seemed, when he glanced at Espre it melted into frustration. He knew he couldn’t bring himself to murder her father in front of her—not if there was any way to prevent it.

  Ledenstrae chuckled. "I have made no such threats. I explained the situation to Espre as it is. If she bears the Mark of Death, then she must die—for the good of all.”

  The elf gazed at his daughter. "Would you put your single life above that of every other elf? Once word spreads that you bear the Mark of Death—if, in fact, you do—legions will hunt you down to kill you. Would you want to condemn your entire race to oblivion along with yourself?”

  Espre sat bolt upright in her chair, her lower lip trembling. "No,” she said, her voice softer than a whisper. "No,” she said, louder. "I couldn’t have that.”

  Kandler wanted nothing more than to hold her right then, to make everything all right for her, but he feared if he pulled his attention away from the others it would all go bad. As Espre’s eyes began to redden, he raised the tip of the fangblade toward Ledenstrae and put his free arm around his stepdaughter.

  Majeeda muttered something cold under her breath, but Ledenstrae cut her off with a sharp snap of his neck. The words caught in the deathless elf’s dry throat like leaves in a hollow log.

  "There are other ways,” Kandler said to Ledenstrae, his arm still around Espre. "Once we leave here, we’re off to Argonnessen to confront this problem head on.”

  Majeeda’s eyes widened so far that Kandler wondered if the desiccated orbs behind her lids might fall out. "I see that you must love my daughter,” Ledenstrae said, "to embrace such folly. I’m impressed, although I’m not sure if it’s by bravery or stupidity.”

  "They’re not always so far apart,” said Burch.

  Kandler squinted at Ledenstrae. "What if Espre doesn’t bear the Mark of Death?”

  The elf smiled. "Then no one would be happier than me. I would have her accompany me back to Aerenal so that I could prove to the world that she was innocent of the crime of being born of such tainted blood.”

  "And if she didn’t want to go?”

  Ledenstrae grimaced. "That would be foolish in the extreme. Already five groups are aware of her growing powers. If we cannot prove her innocent of the charges against her, they will hunt her just to be sure. This is no Brelish court with your pedestrian ideas about innocence. Perception is just as important as reality.”

  "Five groups?” Kandler said. He did a quick count in his head. First there had been the Blood of Vol and the Knights of the Silver Flame and then the dragons of Argonnessen. Later, there had been the Stillborn elves they’d fought in the Goradra Gap, and now the Undying Court.

  He looked down at Espre. She hadn’t been there that long before he showed up again. "How much did you tell them?” "Very little.” She spoke as honestly and openly as ever. Kandler stared at Ledenstrae, sizing him up. "You’re one of the Stillborn.”

  Te’oma cursed Duro and every one of his ancestors as she tumbled away from the airship. She hadn’t cared much for this plan in the first place, and as she fell, spreading her bloodwings out to catch herself in midair, it seemed worse than ever. The wind filled the batlike appendages, and the changeling swooped away from the onrushing ground in an inelegant arc.

  After a moment, Te’oma brought her flight under control. As her wings beat, keeping her in the air, she turned to look back at the top of the cliffside. Already the dockworkers there had spotted her and started to point at her and yell for assistance.

  She pumped her bloodwings hard, pulling herself higher and higher into the sky. As she went, she heard more voices join in the shouting, then the telltale clack-clack-clack of a siege engine being cranked around on a pivoting base. She looked down just in time to see the ballista being aimed straight at her heart.

  Te’oma folded her wings close to her and let gravity resume its pull. As she dropped, the long, thick bolt from the ballista zipped through the air, right where she had just been.

  The changeling spun around and saw Xalt, Duro, and Sallah hacking away at the spots on the airship from which the mooring chains hung. Under Monja’s guidance, the Phoenix pulled away from the airdock hard and fast, stretching those chains taut. It would not take much damage to the mooring cleats for them to spring loose
. So far, the plan seemed to be working.

  Then Te’oma heard a lever being yanked back hard. She glanced toward the other turret nearest the dock and saw the arm of the catapult there slam forward, launching a blazing ball of fiery pitch in her direction.

  Ledenstrae cracked a nervous smile. "It might be more accurate to consider me a silent supporter of their aims.”

  "You sent them after us?” Espre said. Kandler squeezed her shoulder.

  "They were meant to bring you to me,” Ledenstrae said. "I had no guarantee that you would come toward Valenar. If you had decided to head for Q’barra or other parts unknown, our chance to intercept you might have been lost.”

  "They almost killed us,” Espre said. "They murdered the dwarves’ lookouts.”

  Ledenstrae shrugged. "When compared to the fate of our race, such sacrifices do not budge the scales.”

  "They were ready to kill me.”

  Ledenstrae waited to see if Espre would let her anger carry her farther along. Instead, she sat stone still and stared at him. Then she placed a hand on Kandler’s where it rested on her shoulder.

  "I do not regret the decisions I’ve made,” said Ledenstrae. "The stakes are too high. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see your dragonmark and put any questions about it behind us.”

  Sallah hacked at the straining mooring cleat with her flaming blade. Her blow removed a chunk of wood near the base of the cleat, and the groan of the stretching chains grew louder.

  Duro’s axe bit into the gunwale on the other side of the cleat. "Wood is weaker than metal,” the dwarf said. "We’ll be free faster than a rockslide.”

  Sallah grunted in response. Toward the aft of the ship, Xalt chopped at the cleat there with an axe he’d found in the hold.

  Aballista bolt whizzed overhead, then Sallah felt a blast of heat as a ball of blazing pitch arced through the air above the ship. She glanced up and saw Te’oma try to wriggle out of the way, but the massive missile smacked into one of her bloodwings and sent her spinning out of the sky, that wing already ablaze.

  A cheer went up from the guards in the turrets and the dockworkers below. Then one of them spotted what Sallah and the others were trying to do and raised an alarm.

  One more blow, Sallah told herself. She put everything she had into the strike.

  It would not take long for the guards to reload their heavy weapons. If the P/ioemxhadn’t broken free by then, the guards would pick her apart like a snared bear. A crossbow bolt zinged by the knight’s ear to emphasize that point.

  Sallah’s swing cut into the gunwale at the same time as Duro’s next blow. Already under tremendous pressure, the cleat sprang free from the wood to which it had been attached.

  The chain jerked back then fell loose like a cut bowstring. The airship’s prow swung away from the dock so fast that Sallah lost her footing and tumbled to the deck next to Duro. The dwarf grinned at her from ear to ear.

  "That’s how I like to see a plan work!” he said.

  Sallah noticed that they weren’t moving any farther. Toward the aft of the ship, the chain still hung on, and Xalt had crumbled to the deck too. He struggled to stand, but the axe that had been in his hand was nowhere to be seen.

  "I think you spoke too soon,” she said as she scrambled to her feet and tried to ignore the dwarf’s curses.

  Chapter

  24

  Espre removed Kandler s hand from her shoulder and stood up. Far below, he heard the door give way and the guards come streaming into the building’s first floor. From the noises below, there had to be far more than the three elves he’d left behind the door. They cried out in dismay when they saw the remains of the basket scattered about the stone floor there, but he knew it wouldn’t take them long to find an alternate route upstairs.

  Espre moved toward her father, calm and collected. Kandler knew her better than anyone alive, and he noticed how stiff her gait was. He was sure that Ledenstrae would think it the movements of a proper young elf obeying her father’s orders, but the justicar recognized it as the kind of resolve he’d seen her display when forced to face up to a mistake she’d made, unsure of what punishment she might be made to endure.

  When she reached Ledenstrae, Espre turned her back to him. "It’s between my shoulders," she said. "I’ve only seen it once.”

  Kandler had seen it just once himself. He moved around to Ledenstrae’s side to get a better look at Espre’s back. The fact that this brought him closer to the elf in case he had to start swinging his sword did not escape him.

  Majeeda craned her neck over from her chair, and Burch padded over to stand behind her. The ancient elf wrinkled her nose at the shifter’s scent, and Burch allowed himself a vicious smile, confident she couldn’t see it.

  Ledenstrae reached up with a steady finger and pulled the back of Espre’s collar back and down.

  The dragonmark stood out against Espre’s ivory skin like a livid wound. The mark itself almost glowed a bluish-black. The edges of its border with the girl’s skin shone like an angry, red welt.

  To Kandler, the dragonmark seemed like some horrible cancer that threatened to keep growing, taking over Espre’s flesh an inch at a time until it covered her from head to toe. At that point, there would be no more of the young elf he’d come to love so much. Only the dragonmark would remain.

  The justicar fought the urge to lash out with his fangblade and try to cut the dragonmark from Espre’s skin. He wondered if a tool fashioned from a dragon’s tooth would have a better chance than one forged from cold iron, but he knew that to even try might kill her.

  Kandler had never heard of someone trying to remove a dragonmark. In every other case, their owners cherished them for the amazing powers they bestowed. With the Mark of Death, though, it had become far less of a blessing than a curse. Perhaps some great magic could manage it. Maybe he could persuade Majeeda to try.

  "So,” Espre said. "Is it?”

  Duro sprinted toward Xalt and the still-chained mooring cleat, Sallah fast on his heels. "It was a good plan,” he

  said. "It should have worked.”

  He wheeled about, scanning the sky for the changeling. He spotted her off to the south, trailing smoke and fire as she angled toward the deck of the airship like a wounded duck. She’d be lucky to land on the Phoenix, and if she did, she’d land hard. Instead of working as a distraction any longer, she’d draw more attention to the airship instead.

  The ballista crew had already reloaded, and the catapult team didn’t seem to be far behind. They’d gotten the arm reset and were muscling a fresh ball of pitch into the weapon's bowl. One of the elves stood next to the bowl, ready with a burning torch to set the pitch alight as soon as it sat solid in its home.

  Duro eyed the straining cleat. Xalt’s efforts hadn’t done much to the wood around it, and they didn’t have much time left to finish the job. Even if they broke free right then, they’d have to deal with the siege weapons from those nearest turrets and possibly from others farther off. To add to their troubles, a patrol of guards had reached the edge of the docks and were leveling their bows at the airship.

  They needed another distraction, now.

  "Hit that cleat,” Duro shouted to Sallah. "Hard!”

  Before the lady knight could ask what he planned to do, the dwarf leaped atop the gunwale. A flight of arrows whizzing around him, he launched himself out into the gap between the swaying airship and the dock below. As his feet left the Phoenix, he slung out his axe and caught the taut chain under the curved side of the weapon’s head.

  Hanging from his axe, Duro zipped straight down the chain at a dizzying speed. Just before he reached the dock, he wrenched himself up and forward. His axe came free from the chain, and he tumbled straight into the elf archers arrayed at its base, knocking them over like a stand of loose-stacked rocks.

  Kandler brought his sword up behind Ledenstrae, and he saw Burch swing his crossbow up to bear on Majeeda. If the pair of elves said the wrong thing, made the wrong mo
ve, Kandler and Burch would attack. They’d probably only get one shot at killing their foes, so they’d have to make it count.

  "I—I don’t know,” Ledenstrae said, frustration marring his ageless face. "I had thought it would be obvious just from looking at it. After all, the Mark of Death is the stuff of legend.” He turned to Majeeda. "Can you tell?”

  Majeeda pushed her fragile frame up out of her chair and leaned over Espre’s bared back. Her bones creaked as she moved, and Espre shuddered at her touch when the deathless wizard pulled her collar even lower.

  Majeeda cleared her throat as if to speak, and the action coughed a fistful of dust up from her bone-dry lungs. As she waved it away, she said, "I cannot be sure. It resembles the drawings I’ve seen of Vol’s mark, but those were printed by hand on parchment that was already ancient when I saw it. This dragonmark could be the Mark of Death.”

  "Or?” Ledenstrae asked.

  "Or it could just be an aberrant mark, a magical mistake.”

  "How can we tell for sure?”

  "We could bring her to Vol, of course, to compare it with the skin she no longer wears. I understand she keeps it stretched out in a glass case in Illmarrow Castle.”

  "That would entail entanglements in which I would rather we not become ensnared.”

  Kandler tried to nod in agreement and readjust the grip on his sword, but his head and hand refused to comply. Panic rising in his heart, he realized he could not move at all.

  Majeeda turned to smile at him and Burch, showing a mouth full of teeth attached to their gums by only the tiniest bits of pale, dry flesh. "You don’t really think I’d let you kill us, do you?” she asked.

  Sallah screamed at Duro to stop, but she couldn’t reach him before he plunged over the airship’s edge. Determined not to let his sacrifice be in vain, she set to the gunwale fast and hard with her silver-burning sword. As she worked, she heard something thud into the deck behind her, but she was too engrossed with her work to even turn her head to look at it.